


The Ideal Mother, Like the Ideal Marriage, Is a Fiction

by Cinaed



Category: The Magnificent Seven
Genre: Community: lgbtfest, F/F, Mother-Son Relationship, Pre-Femslash, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mother, really. If you think Mary Travis would be anything less than a handful, you are sorely mistaken."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ideal Mother, Like the Ideal Marriage, Is a Fiction

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a quotation by Milton R. Sapirstein. Thanks go out to googlebrat for giving this a once-over for me.

Ezra recognized his mother’s expression all too well. It was the half-calculating, half-predatory look she wore whenever she saw an easy mark. He followed her gaze and then sighed. “Mother, really. If you think Mary Travis would be anything less than a handful, you are sorely mistaken.” 

Maude’s smile turned amused and tinged with mischief. “Oh, but Ezra dear, that’s what I’m counting on. After all, she’s the most interesting thing about this town. Well, other than the mystifying fact that you seem to _like_ it here.” She wrinkled her nose and shot Four Corners a puzzled glance, as though once again wondering how this hovel had captured her son’s fancy. 

Ezra continued to watch Mary for a moment as she smiled up at Chris, amusement shining bright and brilliant in her gaze. She looked happy and entirely unaware that in a few moments, Maude would be circling her in the same way a coyote circled his food. 

In his mind’s eye, he could see his future in Four Corners burning away to ashes, picture the expressions of disgust Chris and the others would wear when they informed him that he had outstayed his welcome and that he and his depraved mother were no longer wanted. “I have a good thing going here, Mother. Can you honestly tell me that that--” He gestured at Mary, who at that moment threw back her head and laughed gaily at Chris’s latest comment. “--won’t end up with me being chased out of town?” 

A single eyebrow rose at that, and Maude offered her son a sharp, hard smile. “Do you doubt my ability to handle all and any situation, dear?” Her voice had gone soft and low with something that wasn’t quite anger but something very close to it. Exasperation, perhaps, at Ezra’s lack of faith, or a warning for Ezra to be quiet and let her do as she wished. 

He ignored both her tone and dangerous smile. While he accepted his mother’s predilections -- she was an unusual and remarkable woman in many ways, and her tastes for both men and women happened to be one of them -- and knew that she could enjoy such preferences covertly since most people considered such preferences perverted, he did not care to accept her partiality for a woman who could destroy his reputation with a single explicit article of the Clarion. 

“I asked you once before not to swindle anyone in this town-- well, not to swindle anyone who could and would come looking to me to answer for your tricks. Must I entreat you again, Mother?” It would hurt his pride to have to grovel before Maude, but the sting of shame would ease once she was back in St. Louis, stirring up trouble there, and his position here had remained intact. 

He cleared his throat and said, softly so as not to be overheard, “Besides, while Miss Travis does control the voice of this little town, she does not have much in the way of riches. If you are looking to blackmail her, there are far better choices.” Choices who were far less likely to tell Chris and the others what Maude Standish had been up to. 

A memory came to him then of the first time he had learned of his mother’s unusual tastes, when he was eight and had witnessed her seduction of a mayor’s wife back East and subsequent blackmail of the woman for quite a large amount of money to keep the secret. Mostly, though, his mother had found other women like her and enjoyed her time with them without any blackmail. Sometimes, she had told him when he was sixteen, she enjoyed a bit of pleasure without mixing business into it. 

“Please, Mother, leave Four Corners and Miss Travis alone,” he said, knowing his plea was probably pointless but attempting one anyway. He glanced again at Mary. He could see why his mother was interested -- Mary was the _de facto_ leader of the town, had a justice of the peace for a father-in-law, and was quite beautiful -- but the thought of his mother seducing and then blackmailing Mary made him feel slightly ill. 

Not from guilt, he mentally assured himself, but self-preservation making itself known. Guilt was a vice that had never laid claim to anyone with Standish blood running through their veins. 

Ignoring him, Maude patted her hair, made certain that not a strand was out of place, and then walked over to where Chris and Mary were still deep in conversation, a slight sway to her hips that hadn’t been there a few minutes earlier. 

Ezra watched her go, wondering (not for the first time) what had possessed him all those months ago to tell his mother the truth about settling down in a backwards town like Four Corners. He really should have known better. 

Maude touched Mary’s shoulder with a gloved, elegant hand. When the other woman looked at her, Maude put on her most charming smile and spoke. Whatever she said made Mary’s smile widen. 

As Ezra observed his mother, he knew that he was likely the only one who saw Maude’s actions as coquettish rather than simply friendly. Still, an itch began in his fingers for his Derringer and a shiver of unease moved up his spine, all signs of a poker game -- or this case, his life -- turning sour. 

“Mother, I do hope you know what you are doing,” he murmured to himself as Maude’s hand lingered at the crook of Mary’s elbow and she looked up at Mary from beneath lowered lashes in a coy way that had won many a heart back East. 

Chris walked over to him at a slow, unhurried pace and Ezra felt his stomach drop a little. While he admitted that Chris was often an enigma he couldn’t unravel, the man was far smarter than Ezra would ever admit aloud. Had he noticed Maude’s flirting? 

Chris settled himself against a nearby post and raised an eyebrow. Ezra braced himself for the worst, forcing his hands to remain motionless at his sides. “How long is she staying here this time?” Chris’s tone was noncommittal, as though he were asking about the weather rather than about Maude. 

Ezra spread his hands in a helpless gesture and shrugged, still wondering how much Chris suspected. “You will have to ask her yourself, Mister Larabee.” He glanced over, just in time to see Maude lean in close and whisper something in Mary’s ear that turned the other woman’s cheeks pink, and added dryly, “I assure you I have no idea what goes on in my mother’s mind.” 

If Ezra didn’t know better, he’d have thought Chris was amused. The man’s stern expression certainly _seemed_ to lighten a little as he nodded and lapsed into silence. 

Ezra didn’t look back at his mother and Mary, pulled out his flask instead and helped himself to a drink. “A toast, Mister Larabee, to my mother’s health and humor,” he said, when Chris just looked at him. He took another long swallow and felt the drink burn its way down his throat. 

He had a feeling he’d be needing quite a bit of alcohol in the ensuing days.


End file.
